NJ DISCOVER LIVE RADIO SHOW: MONDAY SEPTEMBER 9TH from 8 TO 9 PM FEATURING Hosts TARA-JEAN VITALE AND CALVIN SCHWARTZ with Special Guest DANNY COLEMAN (Rock on Radio)

Welcome to our third live show on NJ Discover Radio.
Danny Coleman continues an illustrious career as host of his own radio show ‘Rock On Radio’ having had a myriad of musical guests (a Who’s Who of Jersey and National musicians) as well as feature writing for the ‘Trentonian’ newspaper. We are thrilled to have him for our hour show. Of course with a few surprises for all. even Danny.
TUNE IN LIVE HERE!!!!!!!!!!! From 8 to 9 pm Monday September 9th (before Monday night football )

NJ DISCOVER RADIO SHOW:  LIVE Monday Aug 19th 8 pm.  Hosts:Tara-Jean Vitale & Calvin Schwartz  SPECIAL GUEST: MIKE MARINO ‘NJ’s Bad Boy of Comedy’

This Monday. Aug 19th 8 pm LIVE NJ Discover Radio Show with Tara-Jean Vitale and Calvin Schwartz with SPECIAL GUEST MIKE MARINO, “New Jersey’s Bad Boy of Comedy”

ALL PREVIOUS SHOWS/PODCASTS AVAILABLE HERE AS WELL:

http://www.spreaker.com/show/the_nj_discover_radio_show

Tent City in Lakewood. The Movie Documentary ‘Destiny’s Bridge.’  A Movie Review and Personal Journey to Involvement. Premiere August 7^th at Two River Theatre in Red Bank   By Calvin Schwartz  August 1^st 2013

Right off the top of my frontal lobe, I need to say that this amazing documentary by filmmaker Jack Ballo, ‘Destiny’s Bridge,’ where he spent a year of his life recording the lives of the homeless in Lakewood, is having its world premiere at Two River Theater in Red Bank, New Jersey on August 7^th.

Journeys to sensitivity and understanding sometimes begin innocently with little fanfare and symphonies. On Easter Sunday 2012, I attended a concert of awareness for the people of Tent City in Lakewood passionately put together by Rosemary Conte. With my son, we filmed the event for NJ Discover. I had no concept of what Tent City was and the fact that around 100 humans were living in tents for years without electricity, heat or basic amenities because Ocean County has no shelters for the homeless. Tent City was 24 minutes from where I’ve lived for 24 years but that didn’t register in my frontal lobe. While listening to the music close to the staging area, a bus of Tent City residents arrived at the far end of the plaza for food and clothing donations. Minister Stephen Brigham brought the tent residents in his yellow school bus; that scene was still far away from me in several ways. I stayed with my son but saw people holding empty plates waiting on a food line. An image of President Herbert Hoover’s Great Depression flashed across my unsympathetic retina. Close to the musicians I remained.  It seemed the thing to do. When I got home that night, I forgot about the hungry homeless and talked to my family about the special Jersey musicians I heard for the first time.

Cut to January. Hurricane Sandy relief concerts were happening all over the Garden State. My past written words of support and admiration for Rosemary Conte and her wondrous musical and life contributions caught up to her; we became friends. She invited me to cover a Sandy benefit concert at McCloone’s in Asbury Park for NJ Discover. I interviewed her and then came an introduction to Sherry Rubel, concert organizer, photographer extraordinaire and Tent City activist.

Now it’s February. I’m at a place for coffee and conversation on a busy highway in East Brunswick, N.J with Sherry Rubel. Two weeks later on a very cold sunny day, Tara-Jean Vitale (NJ Discover producer) and I met Sherry across the street from the entrance to Tent City in Lakewood. We were packing TV cameras and microphones for our day in a new world. Patches of pure white snow from the night before looked like special effects. The dirt road was frozen; so was I emotionally. A thin veil of disbelief at my surroundings settled subtly around me. It was numbing; humans in the second richest state in America existing like this. Then I met Angelo, an endearing eloquent resident who invited me into his tent, briefly excusing himself, while I stood immobile and incredulous on how cold it was in the tent.  He went outside to chop wood for the wood burning stove which was not warming the tent well.  His bed was made perfectly. At that moment, in such brutal cold, where humans sleep and exist in the Lakewood winter, I thought about never being quite the same again. And I’m not. Something inside me aches (a soul?) from being overwhelmed. An hour later we interviewed Minister Stephen Brigham, a twelfth generation American. Illuminating and inspiring to us, he’s been devoting much of an adult lifetime to the cause of ‘Destiny’s Bridge;’ a journey to finding suitable and dignified housing in a self-sustainable community of homeless humans. I like using the term ‘humans.’

It’s not within the scope of this article to do self-intestinal excavation and journalizing my time at Tent City.  But a few months later, I was back there with filmmaker Jack Ballo and had a chance to meet residents and talk and listen. Uncovering his wealth of character and poignancy, I met Michael, a long time Tent City resident with his wife Marilyn. He was able to bring a piano from his home before it was lost and kept it under a tarp like on a baseball field in a rainstorm. He played Beethoven and Procul Harum, ‘A Whiter Shade of Pale’ for me. Enamored and drawn to his depth and warmth, I drifted far away standing close to Michael; I was still numb from months earlier at Tent City. It was cloudy and mild this day; easier for Michael and all the residents to sleep at night. But it is all hard; a very hard rain. I need to yell; maybe it will help me understand how and why in 2013 here in New Jersey this exists. Everything I saw that day after listening to Michael play the piano was visually a whiter shade of pale; hard to explain; perhaps a perfect segue to review the documentary, ‘Destiny’s Bridge.’

REVIEW:  DESTINY’S BRIDGE

I’m not a Siskel or Ebert. On the other hand, I have evolved over my tech noir years of ‘Casablanca,’ ‘From Here to Eternity,’ ‘On the Waterfront;’ where perhaps I’m now a contender to talk about movies. Part of the evolution side effect is a bit of snobbish attitude to viewing movies; can’t waste time watching ineptitude in film making and storytelling. Movie making is an art form and a great gift. The works of quintessential movie makers fascinate me. I’ll notice eye-brows moving and the wispy windy sounds of a tree next to a window as two characters are staring at the moon. I take it all in; pure cinematic absorption. I need to learn, emote and feel. Looking back, motion pictures have helped congeal my views of the world and changed my life. Watching ‘Casablanca’ for the 44^th time some years ago formed the basis of my first novel.

So when I previewed the movie ‘Destiny’s Bridge’ a few weeks ago, I found myself instantly riveted into the world of Tent City. My emotional ties developed quickly with the residents; sensitive caring humans looking for dignity and respect in a cold world. Jack Ballo seamlessly weaves their stories and interconnectivity of existence; how they depend on one another. I can say it was beautiful film making; vivid photography heightened the stark reality. You will learn about the harsh human condition of homelessness from this documentary.

Yes, it is an exquisite film which means sensitive, emotional, real and poignant.  Back to my being a snob about movies; I’ve since watched it again. You may need to do the same; the film delivers a powerful message about homelessness and Minister Stephen Brigham’s vision for a future. Then Jack Ballo’s treatise on the lives of some of the people; you grow fond and bond with them, maybe wanting to reach out and help. You care about their lives. The film is beautiful because it makes you feel something inside. It evokes. I love when I’m evoked to emote by a film.

It was a painstaking meticulous project for Ballo; a year of his life for the desire to make a difference. I look at myself right now at this point in time somewhere in a universe. ‘Destiny’s Bridge’ has innervated and moved me; therefore a brilliant work. There’s sadness in the final scene looking down from high above; in some ways leaving that homeless world below but also heralding an awareness that much needs to be done.  All my above criteria for good movie making have been met; I call it a contender. Here’s thanking and looking at you Jack Ballo.

Important Links:  http://www.destinysbridge.com/

http://www.ultravisionfilms.com

https://www.facebook.com/DestinysBridge

INFORMATION ON MOVIE PREMIERE:

ORDER TICKETS HERE ON LINE!! REALLY ALMOST SOLD OUT!!

http://www.brownpapertickets.com/event/412674?date=859361

Advance online tickets for the film premiere of Destiny’s Bridge are nearly sold out!!

Best you order yours before the end of today. ($12 at the door) Wed. Aug. 7, 7p.m., Two River Theater, Red Bank. So much art & culture for such a low price!!

6:30 – lobby exhibit of photography by Sherry Rubel

7:00 – showing of this beautiful and important documentary “Destiny’s Bridge”

8:20 – Q & A; Introduction to the audience to filmmaker Jack Ballo, Univision Films; Minister Steve Brigham, and residents of Tent City featured in the film. Emcee is Dr. Michael Paul Thomas, Monmouth University.

8:45 – Reception, wine & cheese, piano music by Michael, a Tent City resident.

Photos for all on the Red Carpet.

An Evolution to Awareness: Tent City, Lakewood, NJ.  Homelessness. And a Train to See Kobe Bryant.   By Calvin Schwartz

road into tent city

A quick thought before the article: if you like the article. please LIKE the writer on Facebook at:

https://www.facebook.com/pages/Calvin-Schwartz-Cerebral-Writer/258272024192114?fref=ts

Just thinking; I lived a big piece of my life in middle class bliss called suburban Monmouth County, New Jersey which is 40 minutes from Manhattan and an hour from Philadelphia. There are pockets (towns) in the county that have horse farms.  Mint juleps on cane benches on white wooden porches with Mercedes lined up in front of a three-car garage are common place; my way of describing subtle opulence. But I’m refreshingly middle class and damn proud. In July 2011, I even extended the energies of pride into becoming a journalist for a local county paper and a few months later, immersed into the television/internet reporting world of NJ Discover. Two years prior to that, my first novel, ‘Vichy Water’ was published. I became a writer on the late side of life’s journey but that’s OK, I’ve spiritually stopped counting years.

During these recent years, if anyone would’ve mentioned Tent City(Lakewood) and homeless people living in tents (80 of them) 27 minutes away from my electric two-car garage door and driveway, I would’ve gone on doing whatever I was doing, not paying attention because it was still too far away conceptually to grasp. Then last Easter Sunday, I was asked to cover (as a reporter for NJ Discover) a concert organized by Rosemary Conte to raise funds and awareness for the people of Tent City in Lakewood; it was still beyond my attention span and relevancy quotient; it just sounded like a cool thing to do. Rosemary Conte decided to have the concert for Tent City after being inspired by the photographic work of Sherry Rubel (friend of son, Steve Conte who lent Sherry use of his original song, “Busload of Hope” for fundraising).  Sherry was gearing towards an exhibit of her black and white images of Tent City.

Remembering how British sailors were impressed (against their will) into service in the 1600’s, I did the same exercise with my son who became cameraman for a day at the downtown Lakewood concert. The holiday cut into the attendance but the music was good. Then it was announced that Minister Steven Brigham (founder and spiritual leader) was bringing a bus filled with Tent City residents for a food and clothing buffet. When they arrived, I saw them from a distance, waiting in line for donated prepared food. That’s as close as I got to Tent City and its human residents; no faces to Tent City for me to attach to my optic nerve and compassion processing centers. Weeks later I wrote my article with some pictures I took; I focused more on the music. Life is funny. I met a few musicians from that concert and Rosemary Conte who have evolved into friends of mine. I never gave it thought that our thread of commonalty began with the Concert for Tent City.

My memories about homeless come from walking the streets of New York City and seeing people living in a cardboard box or sleeping on steps of a church after midnight. Yes, sometimes I dropped a few dollars for them. I remember Mayor Giuliani rounding-up homeless and busing them away; perhaps he thought it was a curative of the issue. One brutally cold night in New York, I walked by a homeless man sleeping in a big box. That image stayed with me a long time. It’s still there. But I thought about the notion that every human being begins life the same way by exiting the birth canal. So we all are bonded by that first journey. Then every one of us, including Tiny Tim, from ‘A Christmas Carol’ takes different pathways in life.

Homelessness was a long way from my consciousness; a distant abstraction. Life has a curious way to get you involved; reminds me of an old television show, Candid Camera; “when you least expect it”, you get hit gently in the head with a mallet of reality; a headache about the human condition. My hand is waving wildly from the back of the classroom. I yell to the teacher, Miss Crabtree, “I am human. My mother told me.” Back in December, my friend Rosemary Conte was singing in a concert in Asbury Park to raise money for Hurricane Sandy relief. Because loyalty is a gift, I went to see her and met the concert organizer, photographer and fellow human, Sherry Rubel. Chemistry and gut feelings are also gifts. I sensed great compassion and commitment when I talked to Sherry in a hallway on the second floor of McCloone’s overlooking the Atlantic Ocean during a cold rain. Three weeks later on a cold sunny morning in East Brunswick, New Jersey, Sherry and I found a vacant table in a Starbucks and talked about the world and her dreams/hopes which centered on a place called Tent City in Lakewood where 80 people live in tents because. Curiously, just outside the window at her back was a grey-bearded old man sleeping on a chair with his bike next to him. Perhaps all his worldly possessions were on that bike. He was sleeping in 25 degree air temperature. Looking back, was it a portent of things to come? I did promise Sherry, because she was so passionate, that I’d come to Tent City and do a story for NJ Discover.

On the morning of February 4^th Tara-Jean Vitale (NJ Discover producer) and I headed down Route 9 to Lakewood’s Tent City. I did my Google due diligence and read about the politics and exigencies of Tent City; about homeless humans living there. But you never grasp or know what to expect unless you drove an ambulance in World War I; my reference to Hemingway, ‘A Farewell to Arms’ and my having to live a story visually to really feel emotions as a writer/journalist. I was clueless about this foreign world I was entering and it was brutally cold outside. The night before, Sherry briefed me on the politics and current events on how the county of Ocean (which has no homeless shelters) and the city of Lakewood want Tent City closed and bulldozed. A brave lawyer defends Tent City; he wins stays of execution; a human judge decries that you cannot throw humans out into a nowhere land. Minister Steven Brigham has devoted his life to the dream of dignity for homeless. At some point this day, we’d get a chance to meet this amazing man; Sherry promised.

Perpendicular to Tent City main entrance is a small street where we parked; across this street were low income apartments. Sherry met us as I hoisted the tri-pod and cameras out of the trunk. We jumped back into the car and fogged-up the windows while she talked about the protocol and etiquettes of our visit. On our way, I suddenly stopped. I’m a writer collecting my emotions, trying to glimpse tents through dense forest. A strange feeling came over me. Do I really want this because I sensed a queasiness in my intestinal lining; butterflies evacuating in a panic. I felt like coughing resignation; get away while the going is good. “John Wayne, where’s your horse?”  I sensed something; I’d never be quite the same again by the time the sun rose a little higher in a perfectly majestic dark blue sky; how poetic; I was grasping. Then I ran back to the car trunk and opened it and yelled to Tara-Jean and a bewildered Sherry. “I want you both to see this ceremony. I’m taking this huge weighted box of symbolic politics off my back and shoulder so that when I walk into Tent City there is absolutely nothing political about me; I’m just a human being with eyes, ears and a working cardiac chamber.”

Two Lakewood police cars blocked the frozen bumpy dirt road; they were leaving. I was dizzy (too much strange foreign visual input) and cold as I glanced at the first tent on the right; a barking dog was tied with a rope to a tree. I wondered if the dog knew about Tent City. As if a magic wand from Glenda (that Northern witch) passed over us, tents were suddenly everywhere with musty smoke from wood burning stoves coming out of make-shift chimneys; a strange smell(suffering?) wafted in the air we breathe. The ground was covered with patchy snow; why wasn’t I here during the summer? We were now in the middle of the city; as far as the eye could see through thick trees, tents lined a bumpy dirt road. Just then a tall young man approached; Sherry greeted him and then introduced us to Angelo. He was near his tent. We shook hands; he had worn gloves (bare fingers exposed) and invited us into his tent. He was a charming, outgoing eloquent man. Something (a perfect word here) struck my extant dizziness; he was absolutely proud to show us his home; a bed, a wood burning stove (he excused himself to run out and chop a log for more wood) and a few shelves of clothing. But it was his home; the bed was made like it was ready for army inspection. I was faint and still dizzy; it was all real and beyond my imagination; but everyone here was human. Sherry whispered there are all kinds of people here from different walks.

Some tents were perfectly appointed. How strange I thought; could I be in the Catskill Mountains at a tent colony for the summer; Woodstock just up the road. It’s 1969 and soon a big concert. No, this was a real world of homeless humans waiting for a Springsteen song to be written about them. I whispered to myself, “My God.” Angelo’s tent was so cold. How do humans sleep? Yet as we walked past tents and people; something was (that word again) hard to describe which grabbed me in disbelief. Was this an exciting way of life?  A woman walked over to Tara-Jean; “Come let me show you my tent.”  They were proud of their homes. It was theirs; a belonging. I felt it. Next we saw a tent where there was a warm shower and another set up as a chapel and finally a kitchen of sorts with stacks of empty pizza boxes. Local pizza restaurants frequently drop off pizza. Overcome with dizziness now; I knew it was a manifestation of shock and disbelief; how and why. We’re all humans that passed through birth canals dressed the same way.

I keep saying ‘humans.’ Reason; two of the letters in the word are U and S; spells us. ‘Us’ works in a democracy but when we start using the word ‘them,’ democracy weakens. I’ve heard and read people near Tent City (the humans who want them out) refer to the people here as them. “Get them out of here.” How sad. From a distance, Sherry saw Tent City leader Minister Steven Brigham approaching. Eye to eye we stood shaking hands; he was almost as tall as me. Eyes were intense and filled; easy to see. And here’s where I save words. Minister Steve would let us interview and film him so you can watch the video. I’m not sure if anyone else has ever spent such quality time with this amazing man of peace and compassion.

I’ve decided not to describe any more physicality of Tent City now. I would be some kind of dizzy (light headed, heart-broken, sad) all week and beyond while on this journey to self-awareness. What did I learn from this day of my intestinal excavation? Both Sherry and Minister Steve talked about Destiny’s Bridge which is both a new acclaimed documentary movie by filmmaker (storyteller) Jack Ballo and a concept dream for a future community of homeless people who one day might live together in dignity, productivity and self-reliance. Conceptual dignity is a common thread. Homeless people today are rounded up and thrown into distant shelter’s calloused halls with cots and no privacy; warehoused and usually kicked out in the morning for another day without borders and wandering streets; no human dignity or productivity. Destiny’s Bridge is a dream and a hope for belonging, community, ownership, training and human services. Minister Steven Brigham has given the last 12 years of his life to see that dream come to life. Tent City is soulful energy which fuels this dream every day.

Sherry Rubel has spent the last year of her life being involved, caring, documenting and photographing; she’s there relentlessly and compassionately. Jack Ballo has been at Tent City three days a week for the past year creating a documentary film legacy depicting the hope of Destiny’s Bridge. As I write this, Jack is considering several New Jersey film festival premieres over the upcoming spring and summer including the Garden State Film Festival in April. For me, a journalist, this film is about humans, homelessness, New Jersey and dignity; the film’s issues are a no-brainer and should be on New Jersey film festival radar. I remember leaving my political notions in the trunk of my car for the good of honest human reporting. I wonder who wrote the Book of Love when Yuri Gagarin became the first man in space. President Kennedy promised we’d be first on the moon. I wonder about the homeless.

Mine eyes had seen the coming and so much more that day. Tara-Jean and I asked permission to come back. While we were readying to leave, four residents were talking near a tent; a dog was barking in the distance. On a nearby table were packages of hamburger buns stacked three high. Minister Steve had disappeared down the dirt road. Our drive back to suburbia and gas heat, electricity, bathrooms, two door refrigerators and other banal comforts was relatively quiet and pensive yet Tara-Jean and I had differing views of the world. But that’s OK, Mah.

My awareness journey was not over. The next night I picked-up extraordinary singer/songwriter Arlan Feiles and headed for a NJ Transit train into New York City. Wonder where this is going?  One of his songs (a favorite of mine), ‘Viola,’ is about this courageous woman Viola Liuzzo who was a Unitarian Universalist civil rights activist from Michigan who was murdered by Ku Klux Klan members after the 1965 Selma to Montgomery marches in Alabama. While on the train heading into Penn Station and eventually Brooklyn’s Barclays Center to see the Nets play Kobe Bryant and the Lakers, I told Arlan about Tent City.  Subconsciously I hoped.

In the fourth quarter we saw Kobe take off from the foul line and sail over two Nets defenders and jam the ball; poetry in motion. Then Arlan got a text message; there was an open mic on Fourth Avenue in Brooklyn; Arlan did four songs and blew the place away. Next a slice of ethereally tasting Brooklyn pizza and by the next blink of my tied left eye, it was 11:44 PM inside the New Jersey Transit waiting room inside Penn Station. Remember; it was very cold outside. Two dozen human beings were spread out sitting in chairs, sleeping, ostensibly waiting for a train. Then an Amtrak cop appeared; he pulled out a ‘Billy club’ and pounded on the walls behind the sleeping humans. He yelled, “Let me see your ticket. If you don’t have one, you have to leave.” He was throwing homeless humans out into the cold night. He was also profiling. I never took out my ticket. He never asked to see it; thus the second day in a row seeing homeless humans without dignity or warmth. The cop never saw my camera flash. On the meandering slow train back to suburbia, I felt that feeling again.

Cut to Friday night; a few days later. I don’t understand everything in the universe which pretends I’m modeling clay. Recently something made me order the DVD ‘The Grapes of Wrath’ with Henry Fonda.  I’d never seen it before and shame on me. Universal energies abound and it was time. After knee braces pulled tightly in place, I jumped on the exercise bike and pedaled full throttle into a dizzying oblivion while I watched this 1940 black and white movie about an Oklahoma family forced off their land. The Joad family travels to California, suffering the plight of the homeless during the Great Depression. I was back at Tent City; nothing had changed from Lakewood, New Jersey to Steinbeck’s novel in 1939. Time froze. So did I on the bike.

Tom Joad (Henry Fonda) is talking to his mother near the end. The sweat is dripping from me; 924 calories burned so far. “How am I going to know about you Tommy?” Tom replied to his mother, “A fellow don’t have a soul of his own. Maybe just a piece of a big soul. Then it don’t matter. I’ll be all around in the dark. I’ll be everywhere. Where ever you look. Where ever there’s a fight so hungry people can eat, I’ll be there.”  I closed my eyes; suddenly it’s last Monday and I’m sitting in the Tent City chapel talking/interviewing Minister Steven Brigham, a 12^th generation American. I’m black and white and talking to John Steinbeck.

Then I just sat motionless on the bike and watched the movie credits fade to black. Of course I was dizzy again; a different kind of dizzy with resolution and substance.  I remembered that Sherry Rubel wrote a fascinating blog about a Tent City resident, Kevin, who’s been in and out of county jail and Tent City. Kevin is Tom Joad. Synchronicity, personal journey, Tent City, Sherry Rubel, Minister Steven Brigham, Tara-Jean Vitale (NJ Discover producer) and being an apolitical human being enhance my cerebral spiritual synapses.(conscience) Homelessness is on my mind; sounds like a song title. We could use a fresh song.

What I noticed these past weeks are so few humans around these parts (New Jersey and beyond) know (care) what’s going on in Tent City. I’m saddened but not surprised; still dizzy after all these weeks. I’m heading somewhere. There’s a last scene in a movie, ‘Here Comes Mr. Jordan’ when Robert Montgomery stops and realizes he’s going somewhere but he’s not sure. He can’t explain it but he gets up and leaves his boxing dressing room. I worry about a next court date in March for the humans of Tent City; what if?  I need to get back there. I just looked out a window behind me and saw children dancing around a May Pole; why are they dancing in slow motion? They’re human children; a few years removed from the birth canal. There is no real window; a mirage? And the Atlantic City hotel, Revel just went bankrupt ($2.4 billion). A few hours ago someone close to me asked why I’m writing about Tent City when I usually write about musicians, artists or environmentalists. I didn’t answer. That was my answer.

Here are some links:

Tent City Project:  https://www.facebook.com/TheTentCityProject?fref=ts

Tent City website: http://tentcitynj.org/index.html

Facebook: Destiny’s Bridge the movie:  https://www.facebook.com/DestinysBridge?fref=ts

Jack Ballo film maker:  http://www.ultravisionfilms.com

Sherry Rubel Photography: www.sherryrubelphotography.com

Calvin Schwartz:  vichywater.net

Facebook: Cal Schwartz   and Calvin Schwartz-Cerebral Writer

Twitter: @ earthood

earthood@gmail.com

Hey Charles Dickens (the writer), Willie Nile Band is Performing Live in Rahway, New Jersey Saturday Night January 26^th   By Calvin Schwartz

Suddenly last spring, I heard Willie Nile sing for the first time. In the scheme of eventualities of rock and roll music, “last spring” is not particularly one of those full lengths, long career, long time ago happenstances. Put another way, it wasn’t a long time ago. But you see; my journey into rock and roll music or any music for that matter began only a year ago. It’s like an old black and white movie with James Cagney climbing a tower, “Look Mah, I’m on top of the world.” And suddenly I am because it’s never too late for life events. So I’ve become a huge fan of Willie Nile and his band. And I can’t get enough. I’ve come to appreciate the joy of pure lyrics and rock music coming together (just like I’m also a huge fan of the Nick Clemons Band). Willie Nile electrifies and overwhelms. I find myself using the “damn” word every time I hear/see him live. “Damn, he’s so good. Damn, why’d I wait so long?”

It’s funny how you’re drawn into the aura, or a rabbit hole of discovery, or a ballistic epiphany. I discovered the joys of Willie Nile; an auditory gift to all of us and especially us North East folks living close to live gigs and Willie’s home geography. What I mean by the aforementioned two sentences is that I can’t believe I’ve become such a fan, so fast. But I have. I think sometimes I’m too old to be a rock and roll fan then I think about Ebeneezer Scrooge who thought he was too old to change. So I’m not too old, Charles Dickens. Some of my expressions and words may seem a trifle absurd. They are; maybe to make a point but it’s absurd if you care about music (any kind) and you don’t get a chance for Willie Nile live (or some digital music source of pure mountain running spring water and no plastic unrecyclable bottles)

The purpose of my words now is let you all know about a Willie Nile concert this Saturday in Rahway, New Jersey. Before the concert info, a little digression into a recent Willie Nile series of live sightings; actually exactly a week ago when I was with Willie at the Stone Pony in Asbury Park just as he was finishing a live interview on WCTC 1450 radio with Bert Baron as a prequel to Light of Day musical events over the weekend. Willie told me (we’ve done several photo ops together) that “I’m toasted. I just got back from Europe doing live gigs for Light of Day and last night I performed at Asbury Lanes to kick off Light of Day here.”

The setting was a relatively quiet empty surreal Stone Pony. Many musicians and Light of Day founder Bob Benjamin had gathered for the WCTC live radio broadcast for interviews. All of a sudden, I looked; Willie had sat down on top of a bar with a thousand guitars on the wall behind him. I took the picture and thought how wondrously synchronistic (one of my favorite words these days of discovery) because two of my all-time favorite songs (beating out ‘Puff- The Magic Dragon) is Willie’s “House of a Thousand Guitars” and “One Guitar.” A few minutes later I told him that I’ve been listening and watching his ‘One Guitar” video on YouTube (from last year with Springsteen backing up) at least ten times a week. I said, “I really am over ten times a week.” He smiled, “I believe you.”

Later that night Willie Nile and band were back at the Stone Pony for an unplanned short gig to fill in time for a missing musician. I found my nirvana a few feet away when they did ‘One Guitar.” On Saturday night, the Willie Nile Band was back at the Paramount Theatre performing in the main Light of Day concert.  They were introduced as the best rock and roll band in America. I told my friend, “wait until ‘One Guitar’” The entire theatre was on their feet. Willie Nile electrified. “It’s what it’s all about,” I thought, thinking I might’ve been the oldest audience member gyrating above his seat.

Perhaps the best part of my well lit weekend was after the magical concert walking back to my car with acclaimed DJ, Dave ‘The Rave’ Kapulsky (Relics and Rarities Show). We walked by (at 2 AM) the Berkeley Hotel where many musicians and Light of Day fans were staying. Magnetism drew us into the lobby and by 2:30 AM Joe Grushecky started an improv jam session; then at 3 AM Willie Nile electrified  a hundred people in the lobby with another ‘One Guitar.’ It was a quintessential real live pre-dawn jam session with a performer who constantly soulfully gives back. Yes you should’ve been there.

I guess the best way to close this article is to say if you’re in the mood to be musically, spiritually electrified on Saturday, then come on down (get off the sedentary sofa) to Rahway and see/hear Willie Nile with band mates Johnny Pisano (bass), Matt Hogan (guitar) & Alex Alexander (drums) Hey, maybe Mr. Dickens might be around in some form. It is New Jersey you know.

SATURDAY NIGHT CONCERT INFO:

Legendary Willie Nile is flying high in 2013, coming of a critically acclaimed tour of Italy and turning up stunning shows 4 days in a row for Light Of Day NYC & Asbury Park, NJ. Last week was just a warm up because Willie is bringing his rocking band – Johnny Pisano, Alex Alexander & Matt Hogan to do a full show at Union County Performing Arts Center this Saturday night! Get Ready to Rock Jersey!! Union County Performing Arts Center – Hamilton Stage, 360 Hamilton Street, Rahway, NJ. Get Your General Admission tickets before there gone at http://ucpac.org/html/event_popup.cfm?id=300

Willie Nile Home Page:  http://willienile.com/home/index/

Calvin Schwartz

Grand Opening Press Conference  ‘Asbury Park Musical Heritage Foundation.’ An Amazing Historic Place!

January 14, 2013    By Calvin Schwartz

As a journalist who gravitates to music these days, there are events to cover and then every once in a while, I alight from my Conestoga wagon of discovery ( I wish I was around  when the first Conestoga wagons were coming off the assembly line in Detroit) and walk into a magic world of music history and relevance. Such was yesterday at the opening press conference for the Asbury Park Musical Heritage Foundation headquarters on Cookman Avenue, Asbury Park’s hip business address. I started my love affair to remember with Asbury Park exactly a year ago when I hooked up with NJ Discover TV and some unknown universal energy dispatched me to Asbury and the rest is a personal history and words you’re reading now.

Asbury’s music past, present and future swirl around my soul; I know that Asbury Park will one day find itself as an international music presence and destination much like Memphis or Nashville. Asbury Park belongs on the global stage; so many of us who frequent the diverse, rich cultural heritage of this evolving city know this; the music is so good and plenty here.

At the beginning of last summer, I was walking down Cookman Avenue; the sun was setting surreally on a pastel blue house across the street. A young boy was standing in his backyard, with a guitar and an amp, playing incredibly well. He couldn’t have been more than twelve; I dream; maybe I found a way back to the future; it was Bruce Springsteen, no, Vini Lopez, no, Southside Johnny or Clarence Clemons or a hundred other angels who contributed to the rich history of this music town.

Tom Gilmour (director of Economic Development for Asbury Park) opened the press conference and introduced Susan Pellegrini  as the new Executive Director of Asbury Park Musical Heritage Foundation. “We were not ready to take the leap to open this yet for another year, but Sandy made us pick up the pace,” Susan said. They plan to have exhibitions, lectures, live broadcasts and to be that special international destination for people. She continued, “The focus is for us to be a connector for different aspects of music in Asbury Park.”  The inaugural exhibit will be a Light of Day retrospective tour with four photographer’s work.

Next Saturday (January 19^th) they’re showing a film ‘Asbury Park Musical Memories,’ with 1930’s through 1970’s dealing with what is was like to be in Asbury during that time. There’s a three year plan and the ultimate goal is to move to a 30,000 square foot “architecturally significant building, at the Crossroads on Lake Avenue.”

I like the notion that Asbury Park has a sister city in Italy, Casalgrande, giving it even more of an international flavor. The mayor of Casalgrande, Andrea Rossi was here in September and is coming back in May. Indeed the Asbury Park connections grow. So does the dream for global musical relevance and awareness.  John Cavanaugh, official photographer of the Stone Pony since 2000 and Light of Day since 1998 spoke about his contributions of photography and memorabilia on display which constitute phase one. The Heritage Foundation is looking for financial and materials donations and loans of art, photography and memorabilia.  More phase one activity includes an Asbury Park Musical Story Teller series where there are live performances as well. Soon Black History Month, Jazz month and a new artist’s series.

The hours are Friday 12-7  Saturday 12-8 (except 12-10pm during First Saturday events)  Sunday 12-6pm.

Of course during the summer they’ll expand to seven days.

And then Kimmee Masi, operator of Confections of a Rock Star, on Cookman Avenue  invited guests to a feast of cupcakes and confections. I grabbed (inconspicuously, I assumed) a chocolate cup cake.  She saw me. I exclaimed as I consumed in one festive satisfying bite, “wow, wow, wow.”  She said, “Only three wows?”  I brought one more “wow” to auditory channels.

I timed myself. I walked around gazing and reminiscing for 44.4 minutes. It was magic to be there. It was only the first day. Oh and the front door is only 44 feet away from the historic Upstage Club. I like that too.

Asbury Park Musical Heritage Foundation   708 Cookman Avenue Asbury Park   732-775-8900

http://asburyparkmusiclives.org/

Calvin Schwartz

Asbury Angels Induction Ceremony: Asbury Park NJ Sunday September 23rd.  Calvin Schwartz (writer) Tara-Jean Vitale (video)

By Calvin Schwartz

Twenty minutes before the Asbury Angels ceremony. Shooting down Asbury Avenue for the 78^th time this year; that’s an approximation but probably close. I’ve developed a love affair to remember with Asbury Park and find myself there three or four times a week; hey, I’m a music, art, environmental and evolving cerebral journalist and Asbury has morphed into a renaissance/ re-birth. I’ve been saying for some time now in my writings that part of this dynamic is the celestial descending of particulates of molecular energy from the living and past musical history of this town; I’m saying that the world knows about Springsteen, Southside Johnny, Vini Lopez, and the vast array of current performers whose roots came from Asbury.

Yes, for me this energy  is absolutely palpable. Last summer I remember walking down Cookman Avenue and looking across the street at several houses. One had a pastel green back porch; a young teenage boy was playing a guitar and gyrating. I was certain he was pretending /dreaming ‘Springsteen.’  I thought to myself; it’s the sprinkled particle energy of the living legends. I also thought while heading down Asbury Avenue, adhering to the speed limit, passed an Italian restaurant and beautiful red brick church, that I was heading to an emotional poignant ceremony honoring particulate energy of Asbury music history of those who have passed on.

Iconic Tony Pallagrosi, so deeply involved in the musical and philanthropic composition of Asbury Park founded the Asbury Angels.  “The mission of the Asbury Angels is to honor and memorialize the lives and history of members of the Asbury Park musical community, including but not limited to, musicians, tech support persons, DJs, journalists, club owners, record company personnel, managers and promoters.”

NJ Discover’s team, Tara-Jean Vitale (editor, producer) and I quickly slammed car doors in front of the Stone Pony, and joined the hundreds assembling on the boardwalk for the induction of the 2012 class (first one) of the Asbury Angels. Jackie Pappas from the Asbury Park Chamber of Commerce introduced Tony Pallagrosi who read brief biographies of the inductees. Families and friends applauded each reading; the ocean glistened in the background; the sky was perfectly blue and the weather Gods cooperated. The night before, Pallagrosi hinted, Springsteen’s concert at Met Life stadium was rain delayed until 10:30pm.

I listened to every word of each bio. These were legends and icons that did so much for Asbury music. I kept thinking in the midst of the throngs consuming the whole width of the boardwalk, that someday these Angels would’ve contributed to making Asbury Park one of the world’s music destinations. I want to think everyone thought like me. After all, look at the depth, range and impact of these Angels. Its two days later as I write this. I’m still intestinally queasy. I was so moved being there.

As each name was read, a plaque on a boardwalk bench was unveiled with the bio of the Angel.  Huge scissors were summoned to cut the yellow ribbon to share the memorial for the ages. It was Asbury Park’s walk of fame.  The 2012 Asbury Angels are: Arthur Willard Pryor, Bobby Alfano, Larry ‘Bozo’ Blasco, Bill Chinnock, Clarence Clemons, Danny Federici, John Luraschi, Joe Arthur Major, Arthur Morris, Tom and Margaret Potter, and Moe Septee.  When the ceremony was over, I watched people hugging and shaking hands, photographers capturing plaques, old friends seeing one another after decades, smiles and bittersweet  teary eyes; a panoply of emotions.  I did my joyous deep inhalation/exhalation. “Hey Mah, look where I am,” and thought ten thousand people should’ve been here to experience this. (Or more)

You can find the biographies and information on the Asbury Angels here:

http://asburyangels.com/default/index/

There’s a recurring theme to my words and explorations this past year. “I love Asbury Park.”  Sometimes I feel like Winston Zeddemore, the character from ‘Ghostbusters’ when he proclaims at the end of the movie, “I love this city.” I do. But it’s Asbury Park. I’ve been saying for a long time as well that I keep feeling a magic dust constantly descending upon this New Jersey seaside city. Part of the dust is definitely a Bruce Springsteen affectation; pure magic and inspirational. You can feel it everywhere. Good old palpable dust that moves you to creativity and dreams. If you want a piece of it, to experience it, then come to Asbury Park.

Asbury Park is becoming that iconic cultural hub for music, art, theater, food and walks on boards. I suppose there’s nothing quite like salt air, inhaled deeply to sweep you back to seeing news reports of President Eisenhower playing golf or Good Humor ice cream trucks pushing Chocolate Éclair bars; obviously my favorite; toasted Almond in second place.  Part of the allure of diversity of culture in Asbury Park is Dr Sketchy Anti-Art School. I think it’s time to tell the deal with Dr. Sketchy and why I have so much fun attending (as a journalist).

Dr. Sketchy’s Anti-Art School is both a burlesque cabaret and life drawing event originating in Williamsburg, Brooklyn and was founded in New York City in 2005, by illustrator and former artist’s model Molly Crabapple and illustrator A.V. Phibes. They’ve grown globally with branches all over.  As of a few years ago, Dr. Sketchy’s branches exist in 100 cities around the world. Branches vary in their conservatism and the skill of their artists. Asbury Park’s Dr Sketchy brings in eclectic, beautiful, charming, and fun models. I’ve been to several events which are always themed. Several months ago it was ‘vampires.’ The other evening was ‘horror.’ Sociologically speaking it’s quite an event; artists sketching and photographers capturing.

Asbury Park’s Asbury Lanes has hosted several Dr. Sketchy events. For a small cover charge you’ve got up to four hours of sketching models and themes. Poses range up to five minutes and sometimes you feel as if you’re on a movie set. Props and music put you in the themed mood; sometimes the models even act as impromptu judges for a captured particular sketch. Tim, the franchisee has been particularly gracious and helpful in keeping me in the information loop.

Back to Asbury Lanes; as one donut chain advertises; it’s definitely worth the trip to set a bowling foot back in time to bygone days of the Lone Ranger, Pac Man, Photo Booths, Art Deco paintings and posters garnishing the walls and a bar that reminds me of Jack Torrance and red-rum and Stephen King.  Even the water fountain belongs  in a hip-hop museum. Everything about Dr Sketchy Asbury Park is in good taste and fun. The models are professional, outgoing, and intelligent and yes, beautiful. Usually a professional photographer takes part of the bar area and recreates scenes and themes with the models.  I could learn to be a photographer if I keep hanging around.

NJ DISCOVER with Singer Kevin John Allen at Acorn Digital Recording Studios. Farmingdale NJ by Calvin Schwartz (Video by TJ Vitale)

For NJ Discover these past few months, it has been a magical journey into the essence of Monmouth, Asbury Park and New Jersey music.  Without ever sitting down and constructing one of those business plans, while wearing suits and ties, sitting around an oak conference table, coffee cups resting on coasters with pictures of President Eisenhower and Elvis Presley, NJ Discover has innately known our mission statement (well one of them) which was to elevate, promulgate, inspire, uplift and report on all the redeeming workings of our geographical music world here.

A thought occurred a while back; we’ve been doing it all, with camera and pen, exploring and extending our coverage but somehow a journey to a recording studio/session had escaped us. Along comes Kevin John Allen, singer, song writer, personality extraordinaire and friend who called recently, as a morning fog was lifting and invited Tara-Jean Vitale and myself to come down to John Mulrenan’s Acorn Digital Recording Studio for a real live recording session.  I love synchronicity and perfect timing.

We knew we were several miles away from the Atlantic Ocean in Monmouth County, but suddenly a right turn off Route 34 into a forest; then a winding driveway.  Then Kevin John Allen appears and opens a door into a custom built almost surreal looking room with high ceilings that reduced my 6’5” frame to insignificance.  Tara-Jean and I were in an acoustical heaven.  A series of guitars lined a wall. I knew that was history. A spiral staircase (my favorite kind) ascended just in front of me as I gazed down on a Yamaha console. Mine eyes took in state of art everything. Huge glass windows afforded views into a dense forest. I remarked, “What a perfect place for a recording studio.”  Tara-Jean and I were introduced to John Mulrenan, studio owner, Jim Sickels and Ray Sorrentino, the other members of Kevin John Allen’s ‘Lonely Teardrops Band.’

I almost thought being in southern Florida in one of those escape to childhood places of rides and amusements; it really felt like adventure or fantasy land; I was wide-eyed absorbing everything about the studio. Tara-Jean was busy filming with camera.  Kevin and band gathered this day to record, “Get A Little Closer,” from their new album, ‘Life’s Lonely Rodeo.’ Kevin described the album as a little of everything, from do-op to reggae to country Jersey.  Then they started recording. I was mesmerized and actually quiet for the session and it wasn’t easy for me to be quiet. I have to admit: I love the depth and quality of Kevin’s voice and the harmony and sound of the band. It was dreamy magic stuff.

Of course we took some still pictures and then the band sat down and I wasn’t quiet anymore. There were some questions that had been percolating being in this amazing recording studio in the middle of an almost make believe forest. For a brief moment, I thought I saw the scarecrow, tin-man and lion run by outside. I was close in my visual. Kevin John Allen has long hair just like the lion. And I just realized; I was in OZ that day at Acorn Digital Recording Studio. Thanks to Kevin John Allen and the band and John Mulrenan. And to co-producer Tara-Jean for putting up with my dreamy state that day.

An intermittent rain added to the solemnity of the occasion and the history of the soil we were standing on. EPA Regional Administrator Judith Enck along with project Manager Farnaz Saghafi, Marlboro Mayor Jonathan Hornik, Congressman Frank Pallone and Monmouth County Freeholder Lillian Burry assembled under a small white tent with mostly media present to announce the completion of a $50 million contaminated soil cleanup. This Superfund site at Imperial Oil in Morganville (Marlboro) was one of the most polluted in all of America. – On arriving, I did mention to several EPA officials that I attended the very first Earth Day on April 22nd 1970. So these events mean something personal. I wasn’t surprised to learn that New Jersey has the most Superfund sites in all of America.http://www.youtube.com/watch?feature=player_embedded&v=wV_-A8Ue3EU

Industrial operations began in 1912 on this site, so I pointed out to the assembled this is the 100th anniversary. I can only wonder why, in the most densely populated state, they allowed an oil reclamation facility to operate from 1950 to 1969 removing metals and PCBs from waste oil. Another company operated on this site and made arsenic pesticides. The poor soil and underground water; an awful lot of it was excavated and disposed of in the cleanup beginning in 2004.

Superfund was established in 1980 to address the country’s most hazardous waste sites. The program was enacted in the wake of Love Canal and its toxic waste dumps back in the 1970’s. Tara-Jean Vitale and I represented NJ Discover TV. At the conclusion, as dignitaries sought car shelter from a hard rain, Farnaz Saghafi accompanied us on a tour of the grounds; the new top soil brought in, a myriad of varieties of newly planted grasses and trees, a pond fed by a nearby stream, sand pits where the newest residents of the site now live; turtles (not teenage nor mutant as the site is clean and constantly monitored by the EPA), a couple of geese surveying new digs and in the distance just beyond a fence, a new bike path( for humans) just beyond the “No Trespassing” sign. I asked Farnaz about the pond, pretending I was in the desert and it was the only water around. “Could I drink that water now?” “If you like muddy water, you can,” she answered scientifically, with an advanced degree in chemical engineering.

Earlier I asked Mayor Hornik about his recollections of this toxic site. “I was 13 and here with my father who was mayor and this place really scared me.” He smiled broadly and proudly throughout the press conference. When I greeted Congressman Pallone, I reminded him about our past meetings at the environmental Clearwater Festival in Asbury Park the last few summers. Consistency is a desired quality for a Congressman; he is a great supporter of environmental causes. During his comments, he mentioned Superfund losing dollars to the causes of funding jobs for Americans during this recession. Eloquently he said, “Superfund cleanup actually provides a lot of jobs, so it’s a misconception.”

Finally it was announced that the land here is for sale. Part of the sale proceeds goes back to the federal government and Marlboro Township. I stared at the landscape and wondered if I could get a good deal on the property with all I know now.                                        –           Calvin Schwartz  May 2nd 2012